Walking in a Dream
by Qalets
Summary: A party invite brings to light some previously unknown feelings. Malucci/carter. Read and reveiw. Not sure about the rating...but you can never be too careful with slash


NB: All characters mentioned below don't belong to me….to my knowledge

Hey guys, this is something I've had in the works for a while, thought I better upload it quick before you forgot all about that little doc. called Malucci.

And for all those who've gotten fed up of me posting and then re-posting this fic there were a couple of mistakes in it that would have irritated both me and any readers, so I corrected them, thanks to ladyluck for correcting me. Enjoy!

Takes place kinda at the end of last series.

Carter

_If today gets any worse_, I thought to myself as I wheeled a bloody drunk down the corridors of the ER in the vain hope that there might be a free bed somewhere, _I'm gonna be the next one on a gurney, with a severe self-inflicted gunshot wound to the forehead._

        With a heartfelt sigh I finally gave up the search and parked my not-too-willing and far-too-drunk patient in the hallway, leaving him to berate the passing nurses as I went off in search of a suture kit.

        All in all life wasn't a bed of roses at the moment. Nothing seemed to be going my way, which always happens. Once one thing goes wrong it drags every other part of your sorry life down with it. But I'm beating around the bush. What I'm really trying to say is: Abby's getting married.

        Yes, you guessed it folks. Floppy hair, dark good looks and an accent so thick that if you ever got caught in it you might never be seen alive again - Luka.

        I can still see them now, stood in front of us in the doctors lounge, fingers linked together in a gesture that was just too comfortably happy to bear: 

        "We're getting married" And Abby's smooth voice, shattering my heart, my hopes and my dreams in three, short, painful words.

        Me? Bitter?

Finally having found my suture kit I returned to my patient, finding, pretty much inevitably, that he wasn't there.

It just happened to be Tuni, passing at a very inopportune moment, who bore the brunt of my curses and came to help in my hour (day, week, month, year) of need. With one swift movement she'd whipped the patients chart off me and sent me on my break, with the promise she would locate both the patient and another doctor to stitch up the pretty serious wound to the drunks' forehead.

So finally my angst takes me to the doctors lounge. To sit at the table over a cup of weak coffee and stew about how everything is wrong with the world.

Then my day turns just that little bit darker shade of grey as Malucci enters the room.

Just the person I need to see…

He's his usual overly-happy, too-confident-for-words self as he whirlwinds through the door, throwing a casual

"Hey Doc" in my direction as he pours himself a coffee and slides into the seat opposite me. Slides is the right word to use, everything about him "slides", so slick he can barely keep a grip on the floor.

I stand up to leave.

"Hey Doc, leaving so soon?"

"Yup, clever of you to notice…" I cut him off, unable to listen to that unbearably happy tone for a moment longer. I just want out. I don't need this right now.

        I was barely aware that I'd snapped, my comment had been incredibly mild compared to what Tuni had witnessed in the corridor fifteen minutes before, but he managed to pick up on the defensive tone in my voice, holding his hands up in mock surrender and sitting back slightly in his chair so he could see my face.

        "Sorry mate, I was just being sociable"

        "Yeah, well…" His friendliness caught me rather off guard, we'd never really had much time for each other in the past "I'm really not in the mood right now, I'd better get back to work…"

I turned to leave but he called me back

"Hey Doc, before you go, I'm thinking of having a little get together on Friday, wondered if you'd like to come" From his pocket he produced a sheet of brightly coloured paper and laid it out on the table, smoothing the deep creases so I could read the text:

PARTY! COME AND ENJOY!

"…I just bought this new place, thought I'd break it in, annoy the neighbours," He laughed, raising his eyebrows slightly.

There was silence for a long moment, in which I had absolutely no idea what to say. It was so totally out of the blue that I was caught completely off my guard. Although he'd still managed to deliver the invitation without so much as a waver in the trademark, over-the-top confidence of his, the trace of true caring still shone through.

Finally he laughed, shrugging his shoulders. "Well, if you don't wanna take me up on my offer right now, you can think about it." He stood and leant over to pass me the brightly coloured flyer, I took it with nervous fingers "But it should be a laugh, just a few of my old med school buddies and some old friends"

"You have old friends?"

He laughed "Of course"

"And why, why are you inviting me?" My voice wavered, my confusion evident

He shrugged "Thought you could use some cheering up…"

He prepared to make his exit then, tipping the last cold dregs of his coffee down the sink before walking in my direction to get to the door. It seemed perfectly natural, he didn't want an answer yet and was prepared to wait for me to come to him with it, he was simply leaving to go back to work, annoy a few more cute nurses, see a patient or two if he felt like it. But then suddenly, even more out of the blue than the invitation, were his lips, hard and strong, against my own. 

"What the fuck was that for Malucci!?" I pulled away almost the moment our lips met, backing away from him as if he were some wild beast to be feared.

        "You looked like you needed it" He said it with a smile, too smug for words. I could have hit him, felt my knuckles crunch on that delicate flesh along his jaw line, but I didn't. I just glared.

        "Well you were wrong Malucci" I spat at him over my shoulder finally, turning to make my hasty retreat back into the chaos of the ER.

The nerve of that guy, I thought to myself as I retreated to the reception desk, flicking swiftly through the charts in the vain attempt to find something easily manageable in my present state of mind, I mean, how dare he? What the hell was he thinking? And why me for fuck's sake? Questions buzzed around inside my head, clouding my thoughts and making even the task of walking down the corridor to my waiting patient an impossible one. 

        "…_you were wrong Malucci" _My departing line seemed to plague me all that day, turning around and around inside my head until it drove me half out of my mind "…_you were wrong" _But was he? No matter how hard I tried the taste of his lips on mine, the feel of his face so close, the smell of him, would not leave me alone all day. It was there as I treated the little girl with frostbite, and the old man with a broken wrist, and the boy who had accidentally glued his fist to the mouse mat (a peril of the 21st century). It was there as I took my second break, sat warming cold hands around a mug of hot chocolate in Doc Magoo's, half listening to the comfortable ramblings of Abby over her days work and the plans for the wedding that I met with a strained smile. It was there as I packed up my things at the end of my shift, stuffing my lab coat into my locker and finding crumpled in a pocket a piece of brightly coloured paper that had been pushed into my hand that very day:

**PARTY! COME AND ENJOY!**

Malucci 

Home was uninviting when I got there, the heating hadn't come on again, although I'd specifically asked my landlady the day before if she could manage to get someone to come and have a look at it. At the time I thought a good old dose of the Malucci charm had done the trick, but it looked like me, and my request, had been forgotten the moment I'd stepped out her door. 

        Shivering I ventured inside the flat, wondering idly if it was physically possible for it to be colder in here than on the snow-covered streets of Chicago. It wasn't until I'd switched on every heater in every room that I dared to shed my jacket, draping it in its usual place on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, before making myself a coffee and settling on my threadbare sofa to catch the end of the game on the TV.

        A quiet night in, I thought to myself, digging under the sofa cushions to find the remote, that was unless…

        I let my thoughts drift off.

        It was two hours later that my "peace" was finally shattered, as there came a quiet knock on the door.

Carter 

"Hey" My voice was quiet, feelings wavering, unsure of why I was there. Ten minutes earlier sat on the El station, this had all made sense, as if he had been laying a carefully formulated trail for me to follow, laid clues for me to figure out and interpret how I would, ending up here, at his flat.

        In the end it had been the flyer that had spurned me to come, sat on a cold train platform at had seemed like more than an invitation to a party in a weeks time. It was more like a way of telling me his address, where he was if I needed him, for under that bold heading there were only three lines of text…and they all had lead me here.

        "I wasn't sure if you'd come" He said finally, a quiet smile on his face, eyes never straying from mine

        "Well, I was in…" I started to say "the area" but fell silent, realising how lame it sounded when he knew I came from the other side of town. "I kinda needed…" I started again but this time I was cut off, by a laugh and a smile and a hand on my shirt drawing me inside and onto the lips of someone I'd never before today dreamt I'd be kissing.

Malucci 

        By the time he ended up on my doorstep I'd just about given up hope that he would come, decided I'd been too subtle with my clues and too over-the-top with my pursuit. I'd scared him off…I thought.

        I had no idea why I'd done it; right then, at that moment, at the time I hadn't even considered the idea until my lips were against his. He just looked so vulnerable stood there against the wall of the doctors' lounge, confused, past anger diffused through dark features. He was in exactly that kind of mood that made you want to gather him up in your arms and never again let him see the evil in the world, a kind of protective-vibe I never thought I'd feel for another guy.

        Guys. Hmm, perhaps its about time I explained this, although I have absolutely no idea how I'm gonna do it. Guy's are kinda like my relief, my break from reality. Don't get me wrong I like my chicks, every kind, tall, short, blonde, brunette, but I mean, they're serious. With them its commitment from the word go. With guys it's easier than that.

        I'm not explaining it very well. To be crude, girls I love, guys I fuck.

        Somehow though, those boundaries were beginning to shade, fuzz around the edges and it was all because of him, him stood on my doorway hastily trying to think up excuses to why he was there. Confused again, nervous and embarrassed. Deep brown eyes peering out through floppy hair, sweet, seductive and so damn kissable.

        He didn't resist when I reached out to pull him to me, or hold back when my lips found his for the second time that day. It felt surreal, like I was walking in a dream, or perhaps a fantasy. I felt like I was watching myself in third person as our kisses deepened and his tongue slipped into my mouth, gently, familiarly, as if we'd been kissing each other ever since we could remember. And I was only a spectator when I led us into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us and letting us fall upon the unmade bed.

        But it was me again who halted everything a few minutes later, pulling back to rest my forehead against his, hands wandering back to my own body.

        "What are you doing here Carter?" My voice was rough, filled with lust and confusion. Was this really me? Refusing sex?

        He was as confused as I was.

        "What, what do you mean?" His voice wavered and frustrated I got up from the bed, pulling myself from his hands.

        "You don't really want to be here Carter," I sighed, staring up at the ceiling, hoping desperately that I wasn't going to cry -of all the things "you think sleeping with me will make you feel better about Abby and it won't, believe me, I've tried it before…" 

It was then that I turned swiftly and hastily made my exit.

Carter

        And he just left me there stretched out half naked on a strange bed, in an apartment I'd never seen before, in a part of town I hardly ever went to. Leaving was not an option, but for the moment neither was following him through the doorway that led to… I didn't even know that. So I lay back on the bed with a sigh and stared up at the ceiling, what was I doing there?

Malucci

        What was I doing? The question kept running around inside my head. This was the chance I'd been waiting for, the chance I'd dreamt about, fantasized about. A half naked Carter stretched out on my bed, ready and willing, well willing anyway.

        And suddenly I knew what I was doing. I was caring. Carter wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready for anything of the sort, he still loved Abby, and for some reason that mattered to me.

        Wow, that made me sound like a sex-crazed, uncaring, ego-maniac.

        Perhaps that's what I was.

        I sat there for a long time that evening, sipping milk from the half-full carten and listing to the gentle click of the kitchen clock, at some point I heard movement in the bedroom behind me, but he didn't appear, instead, moments later, there was the click of the latch as he passed out the front door, my apartment, my life.

        I should have got up then, run toward the doorway and called after him, begging him not to leave, to come back, to scream that I'd been stupid that I wanted him. And God did I want him, I wanted him so much I couldn't have him, and I have never, in my not so uneventful life, thought anything like that before. 

        I couldn't get out of my chair, couldn't run after him and beg him to change his mind, just as I couldn't go through with it when we were rapidly parting each other's clothes on my bed. He wasn't ready, therefore I couldn't be ready, but god WAS I ready.

        Slowly I lent forward and rested my forehead against the cold surface of the table, hoping to clear my thoughts, get him out of my mind, but it didn't work. No matter how hard I tried the sexual stupidity of the last half hour would not erase itself and I was still there in my own shabby kitchen, cursing the day I'd even thought of making a move on Carter.

How could I have been so stupid?

Carter

        The next day had dawned bright and sunny in the small world of Carter, that was until I stepped through the doors of the ER and had not only the frustrating patients, the nagging superiors and the lovesick colleagues to contend with but also the chest-wrenching pain of rejection every time I so much as caught a glance of Malucci. 

        If it was possible I disliked the guy even more than I had done before in my life, setting me up, ridiculing me, playing with my feelings. "Playing with my feelings"? Had I really just used that phrase? Of course he hadn't played with my feelings, I'd never had any for him to play with. Except maybe self-pity, self-hatred, the feeling that if I didn't do something soon I'd either scream with rage or collapse into uncontrollable tears on the scuffed linoleum floor of exam room 4. Wow I was a desperate case, no wonder he hadn't wanted to sleep with me.

Malucci

We spent a week like that, locked in an unalterable deadlock, somewhere between attraction and hatred. Or perhaps that was just me; perhaps he was only locked in the latter, desperately trying to stay out of my sight, repulsed at the mere thought of me. Strange guy, he'd think, something wrong in his head, I was giving him what he wanted and then he threw it back in my face. 

        And what was worse it _was_ what I wanted and what I imagined him saying in his head every time he saw me was what _I _was thinking of myself in my own. Perhaps I was being an idiot, perhaps he really was over Abby, ready to move on, move onto me –something I couldn't say how long I'd dreamt about. Perhaps the way he seemed to hold that little part of him back when we were making out was just in my imagination, perhaps that's just the way he was, perhaps that was how he kissed, perhaps...

        Very soon the word "perhaps" was going to lose all meaning.

        But still there's that familiar tug on my heart every time I see him, and the smiles that he graces on all but me tear at my chest. I'd been stupid, now I was paying the consequences.

Carter

I told myself it was a normal that I shouldn't be able to stop thinking about him. Hid behind unspoken promises that eventually he'd go completely out of my mind and that the only reason he even dwelled there was because of my embarrassment, the private ridicule he'd put me through. 

        That was one thing that surprised me, I thought to myself almost the millisecond after I'd thought the thought before, if you get my meaning. He'd kept it a private ridicule, happy enough to laugh alone at me, rather than with the rest of the ER -and that was what I convinced he was doing, laughing, cruelly, at my incorrect interpretation of his feelings, of my own feelings, of the situation.

However it was only that weekend that my thoughts gradually began to shift. Both Abby and I had managed to get the morning off together so we could go shopping for her wedding dress. She had told me in great confidence the week before that I was the only one of her friends both male and female she would ever trust with that task, for no one ever saw her in a dress if she could help it, and even fewer saw her in one that didn't suit her.

        So it was my honour that Saturday to escort her into town, her arm through mine as if it were really me she would be marrying in a few weeks time, not the Krovation, too-smug-by-half, dimwit of a doctor currently running around after patients for me back at County General. 

We must have entered about a dozen wedding stores before finally we found a place that she liked, not a dress, just a place. I proceeded to take a seat there, amid the white and floral tones to read a magazine while she was whisked off by the over-enthusiastic sales clerk to find the "little something I know will be just perfect for you dearie". I'd smiled when she said it, revelling in the stereotype as I myself took mine, the doting friend, ready to do anything for the woman I valued so greatly.

        My eyes shot up from my magazine. Had I really just thought that?

        My thoughts were cut off as a vision of Abby appeared through the mirror posted in front of me. It was only she, it seemed, that was able to step away from the stereotype in a place like this. Emerging through a white arch entwined with delicate pink artificial roses she managed to look every bit the bride, if it wasn't for the expression on her face. A scowl. She'd hated the dress but had been unable to get that across to the doting little old woman that had trussed her up in it. I smiled wanly, shaking my head and setting her free to seek out a better one.

        It also set me free to sink back into my chair, a sigh on my lips and my mind in turmoil.

        I'd always assumed I was still in love with Abby. After all, love was not one of those emotions that could be switched on and off at will, but had something changed to turn all this around? I asked myself, thoughts straying everywhere at that stage rather than to the one I should I thought of immediately.

Malucci

"Malucci! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Eating chief" 

"You call that eating do you? I call it dripping mayonnaise all over a sterile floor!" I couldn't help laughing as I was shooed from the room; sandwich still in hand, winding up Weaver was something I could still take pleasure in at least.

Carter

"What do you think?" It was Abby's voice that finally drew me from the particularly interesting spot on the floor I'd been focusing on for the last fifteen minutes as my mind had turned everything over and over several times. I still had feelings for Abby, she was a wonderful woman, and a person I could relate to and understand even when her actions seemed so totally insane even she could barely interpret them.

        Perhaps it was because we were so alike, so perfectly the same that it became scary, so perfectly the same that nothing more than friendship could ever blossom, where would the fun be in dating a woman that was perfectly like yourself?

        Back to the now however, and the cream figure of Abby stood before me. This time she did not scowl or pout, her face was serine, questioning, genuinely intrigued as to what I would think. I rose slowly off my chair, eyes caught on the figure she tried so well to hide on every other occasion. It was the simplicity of the dress that made it so eye-catching, the way it clung and flowed about a perfect feminine body, hung low on the shoulders and trailing over simple white pumps.

        "You look amazing," the worlds came from the heart, as I stared in wonder at a person I thought it possible I'd never known before. This was Abby the bride, Abby the beautiful, Abby the wife of Luka Kovac.

        And for the first moment in her short engagement that fact didn't weigh down my heart with a million regrets, for the first time I was able to build up a picture of her and Luka walking down the aisle, arm in arm, wide smiles on their faces and joy in their hearts. Perhaps this could work after all; perhaps she really could be that happy.

        Embarrassment fading at my appreciation of the dress, Abby did an excited twirl in the mirror beside me which could almost have been executed with a girlish giggle if this had not been Abby Lockhart, I smiled. Of course she could be that happy, she already was.

Malucci

        The ER was packed, and Weaver was on the warpath. It had started with the sandwich incident, and then, perhaps, I could have pissed her off slightly with the old "dirty water instead of coffee in the coffee machine" trick. And then possibly the old "not really wanting to work when we're so busy so thought I'd take a half an hour nap in an empty exam room' thing, it might not have been the best of ideas.

        "So Mr Harris you're not feeling too well today then?" It didn't help, I thought as I unfolded my next patients chart, that my mind really wasn't on the job today, even less so than usual, instead it roamed the centre of Chicago, no doubt having a great time helping a certain soon-to-be-bride choose out the perfect outfit for her big day. 

        Even with my lack of enthusiasm I could tell there was something wrong with the chart, quickly I flipped over the pages, finding nothing but empty paper. 

        Now even _I'm_ not that bad a doctor as to not realise something is amiss when a totally blank chart appears in your hands. So I suppose it was that realisation that finally caused me to look up at my patient, the patient that was not, as I had been told by a rather more-giggly-than-normal-Tuni in reception, Mr Harris, but someone totally different. A someone who my mind had dwelled on for most of the day when it should have been devoted to more useful things, like thinking up more original pranks to play on my superiors. A someone who was wearing a smile as wide as mine became when I realised who it was. A someone I'd been waiting to hold again for a long time.

Carter

        It amazed me exactly how long it took for Malucci to realise it was me in the room and not the old man he assumed it to be. He barely looked up when he entered, staring down at his chart rather than meeting the patients (or in this case, my own) eyes. He really was a terrible doctor, I mused to myself as it took him two flips of the blank pages on the chart to realise that there was nothing there, and another 15 seconds before he finally thought to check out this mysterious patient with his own eyes.

        Those eyes.

        The shock in his face was a picture, I could barely prevent myself from laughing out loud as realisation dawned, a smile spreading across his face to match my own.

        Then finally, when I decided we'd been staring at each other mutely for far too long, I reached out a hand and, balling his scrub-top in my fist, pulled him toward me, my lips meeting his in a mind-blowing kiss I'd been waiting in the cold, dark exam room to perform for far too long a time.

Malucci

        "But, but…" It was a long time before I was capable of coherent speech, and even then it wasn't particularly articulate.

        "No buts" He managed to whisper against my lips, his fingers doing delicious things to the back of my neck.

        Finally I managed to drag myself just far enough away from him so I could speak

        "Are you sure you want this?" I asked, eyes searching.     "Pretty dumb question if you ask me" He laughed, breathless, crossing the tiny distance between our faces and reclaiming my lips.

        "Abby?" I managed to ask against his lips

        "Old news" Was his reply, in the same manner the question had been delivered

        It took a lot of resolve to draw back once again.

        "You sure?"        

        This time he took the question more seriously, allowing me to put a little distance between our faces before he replied.

        "You were right to give me time," he said gently, face still close to mine, hand resting on my cheek "I _was_ in love with Abby, but that's all it is now…past tense" He smiled slowly and I matched it, revelling in the small electric shocks his hand was sending through my face.

        "Do I need to ask what it was that changed your mind?" I said finally, a smile crossing my face.

        "Always looking for a compliment Malucci" He laughed, leaning forward to re-ignite our entwining kiss.

Weaver

"…we've got the minor head trauma in 1, cuts and abrasions in 3, Greene's dealing with the kid with amnesia in trauma room 2…" Flicking through the charts there seemed to be only one room left unaccounted for, "What the hells going on in exam room 4?"

        I looked up, no one answered. The assembled nurses at reception just looked at each other and shuffled nervously.

"Malucci's asleep again isn't he?" 

I didn't wait for a reply, taking off across reception before anyone could speak.

        "I wouldn't if I were you…" Tuni called behind me, but I ignored her pointedly.

        "Malucci, the ER is packed, we have multiple trauma on the way and you think it's an opportune moment to take a n…" I stopped dead, mid rant-mode. During my speech I'd managed to close the small gap between myself and the door of exam room 4, flinging it open savagely and jabbing at the light switch with my free left hand. 

However the scene that had greeted me with the new light was defiantly not the one I expected. Two figures, not one, blinked back at me, entwined on the small gurney at the other end of the room, half clothed, as shocked as I was.

        The three of us stood (sat, laid) like that for a long time. None knowing what to say, until finally I pulled myself together long enough to do the only thing there was to do. 

        I closed the door.

        "Told you not to go in there," said Tuni smugly.****


End file.
